


Return To Me

by Virlomi



Category: Christian Bible (Old Testament)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fear, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder, Shame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7489428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virlomi/pseuds/Virlomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bathsheba never loved David, nor did she ever forgive him for what he did to the man she had adored. She did not choose this life, she was merely subject to a Patriarchy and Kingdom far bigger than she could ever hope to stand against.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

I never loved him.

 

It would be a lie to say that I didn't think he was handsome. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't decent in bed. It would even be a lie to say that I would've never considered being with him, especially with all of his power and riches.

But I never loved him. And under these circumstances, there is no way I ever will.

I loved someone else, and I loved him so much that there is no room left for David at all. 

Even more so since he took that person from me. No one will say it outright, but I know it. I heard Nathan the Prophet, comparing me to a lamb taken from a poor man. 

"The poor man had only one small lamb. You, David, had so many. But you needed to have his lamb as well. And for that, the Lord is angry with you."

The Lord is not the only one angry with David. I am certain I never want to see him again.

Not that I have a choice. David is the King of Israel. 

I am one female out of thousands in Jerusalem. 

 

 


	2. Demands

I wonder how many other people have watched me bathe? 

Until the day he saw me, I never realized how many people I was exposed to. Or how many people in Jerusalem apparently like to lie on their roofs in the middle of the day. 

I'm guessing a lot more than just David. But he's the only one who gets to do more than use his hand while watching the scene. He is the King. Nothing can be denied to him. Even my body.

When I received the summons, I was confused. The King? Wanted to see me? 

My stomach twisted into knots, and I felt the certainty settle on me that this was about Uriah. Uriah, my love, my life, for the past six months. He had been my rock, my support, until Joab conscripted him into the ranks of the military. Not that Uriah went unwillingly. He was furiously proud of his new found nationality. He had first become an Israelite for me, gone through the painful process of adult circumcision, and married me a month later. I loved him that much more for his loyalty and sacrifices. Once an Israelite, he had become invigorated with a new kind of national pride, and talked many times about going to fight for our nation, but he didn't do so because we had just been married and he wanted to enjoy our time together. 

But now that he was in the army, had he been struck down? Merciful Lord prevent. 

When I arrived, I was shown directly into David's chambers. Not his throne room, his bedroom. 

With the confusion growing in my heart, I stepped into the room to find the King of Israel shirtless and attired only in a purple cloth that wrapped around his waist, tied tightly as if to deliberately show off his abdominal muscles. He was a striking figure, and I was terrified.

I knelt low, my scarf covering my face almost entirely. "What is it, oh King? Please tell me. Is it my husband?"

He dismissed the attendant with a wave of his hand, and lifted me by the hand to my feet. "Of your husband, I do not know," he said, and his voice was very deep.

"What does my King desire of his servant, then?" This was becoming strange.

He leaned towards me, put out his hand, and suddenly, with a quick jerk, he pulled off my head-covering and tossed it away.

"Sir!" I gasped. "It is my only one!"

By now, I was beginning to see that this was a nightmare. He paid no attention to my comment and loosened the knot on his purple garment. It cascaded to the floor, revealing the King in full nudity. 

I covered my eyes, but even so, I could see that, though not small, he was not as well endowed as Uriah. 

"Look at me, Bathsheba!" He commanded. Fearfully, I obeyed. "I want you to pleasure me."

"Sir, no! Please. I am married, and I love my husband!" 

But he would have none of it. He carried me to his canopied bed, and began to remove my clothing. He was remarkably gentle about it, but the violation of his hands stood in stark contrast to the love Uriah and I made so often. 

When he had removed my clothing, he entered me. It did not hurt, because I did not resist. I knew I could not resist him. His abdominal muscles were staring me in the face, and his biceps were bigger than my head. The King was not a man to struggle against. He thrust harder, hurting me now, and I cried out. He stopped, and tried to kiss me, but when I refused, he went back to thrusting, though not as hard as before.

It seemed to last forever. Finally, I felt him release inside me, and I had to hold back my desire to vomit. 

"Thank you, Bathsheba," he said, replacing the garment around his waist and lying down on the bed. "Come, lie here with me."

"Please, sir, I want to go home."

The King looked hurt, and a little surprised. 

"Of course. But first...if you would like another bath, there is one drawn for you in the next room." 

I had a feeling this was less considerate and more precautionary, and I declined. This room, this place, this horrible huge old palace, made me feel like I had committed some terrible crime. Hastily, I dressed again, found my scarf, and used it to cover as much of my face as possible. 

_Oh Uriah. I am so sorry._

The King shouted for the attendant, who showed me out. As soon as the door had closed behind me, I fled.

 


	3. Pregnancy

When I got home, I took what little water was left in the bucket I had brought from the well and used it to wash my genitals as well as I could. But even when the water was gone, I still felt filthy.

_Uriah, how could I let this happen? I love you, I swear I love you._

Try as I might, I couldn't see how I could have changed it either. 

_But you didn't struggle. You didn't try. You didn't call for help._

I hadn't. There was no denying it. And that kept coming back to me.

I went into the bedroom of our tiny house. It was strangely cold in here. I wanted to lie down, feeling sick to my stomach, but I couldn't bear the thought of climbing back into the bed that Uriah and I had made so much love in. Not with the feeling of David's hands still lingering all over me. 

In the end, I pulled the blanket off the bed instead and wrapped myself in it, steeling myself for tears. But they did not come.

_How was I going to tell Uriah? What would he say? What if he tried to retaliate against David?_

_Maybe, I should just not tell him._

_You have to tell him. He deserves to know. And it's not your fault. You didn't want it._

_It's still cheating. He will be angry. Why should he have to know?_

From one hour to the next over the course of the night and the next several weeks, I went back and forth, trying to decide what to do. One day, I was certain that I must not tell him under any circumstances. The next day, I felt so overwhelmed with guilt that I knew I must. But then again, the next day after that, I felt that David might kill him if he were to find out. So perhaps I had best keep this dark secret to myself after all. 

But then something happened that changed everything.

On the day I knew by my count that my bleeding was to begin, it did not. 

And it did not the next day. Nor the day after that. Nor the day after that. When I awoke in the middle of the night and vomited the bread I had eaten for dinner, I knew.

Immediately, in the early morning, I rose and "went for water." When I reached the Palace, I went to the guard and spoke, low. 

"When the King arises, give him this message. Tell him that his servant Bathsheba is with child." The guard smiled a sickly smile, and made a show of looking me up and down. Terrified, I stepped backwards and hurried away down the hill, hoping that the message would reach David. 

This child should have been his problem. I had not wanted it all along. The only child I wanted to have was one that was fathered by Uriah. I was disgusted to know that it was his seed inside me, his seed that had taken root in my body and was now growing into yet another of his children. As if he didn't have enough already by enough different women.

_What would Uriah say? Would he even love me anymore? Would he even want to make love to me anymore?_

I waited, terrified, for the King's answer. It arrived before sunset.

_"I will take care of your situation. Do not be afraid. It is my child, I will do what I can."_

How sweet. I wanted to stab the messenger in the heart. But it was no more his fault than I was my fault that this child was now coming to life inside of me. 

It was David's fault. David the King. And there was nothing I could do about it.

I could only hope that he knew what he was doing more so than he had when he had called me in to lie with him after seeing me a single time.


	4. Plans

I heard nothing for a week. Every morning it seemed I could feel my body getting heavier, and every night I tossed and turned and barely slept. 

On the eighth day after the first message, a new one came. 

The messenger was at my door before dawn, knocking in the dark. When I opened the door, he spoke quickly. "Come now, the King desires to speak with you."

I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and followed him, dreading what was to come. Why would the king want to see me now? Since the damage was already done, did he think it would be fun to have his way with me again? 

I hoped he had a solution to this problem he'd caused for both of us. Under my breath, I said a prayer. But not to Jehovah. No, Jehovah was David's god, Joab's god, the god of men. Not the god of women. I didn't know who I was praying to, but it wasn't him.

We were at the top of the hill now, on the last steps to the palace gate. The guard warming his hands in front of the palace turned his face away when we passed as if to pretend he hadn't seen anything. What had he seen at this hour or any other? Was that shame he was covering up? Shame for knowing just how many women passed through David's bedchambers every night of the week? Was that how it was to be with David? One of a hundred others?

But it wasn't that that bothered me. For all I cared I could've been the only one ever and I'd still hate David. He took from me and no one would take from him.

The messenger who brought me showed me into the same bedroom I'd been in before, only now there was a fire burning in the hearth and the red and blue and purple drapes around the bed and the walls cast long shadows. I was colder in this room than I had been in the night air. Wrapping my shawl tighter around my body, almost like armor, I took one step forward into the room and halted, unwilling to go further. Behind me, the messenger shut the door.

I didn't see David immediately, but after my eyes adjusted to the strange firelight, I found him. He was lounging on a chaise before the fire, naked except for a loose blanket around his privates. 

Out of habit, I started to bow low, and thought better of it. Instead, I walked towards him, disgusted. 

He smiled at me and I wanted to spit on him. 

"How are you this evening, my dear?" 

I didn't answer. 

He stood up, letting the blanket fall off and showing off his erection.

I bit my tongue to keep from gagging. 

"I asked you a question, Bathsheba." His voice had a dangerous edge to it. 

"I am however it pleases the king for me to be," I said flatly.

"Aw, you're angry with me, aren't you darling. There's nothing to be angry about, I'll fix everything for us. Come over here." 

Trembling with rage, I obeyed.  When I was about a foot away, I halted, and the smell of alcohol was obvious.  This was absurd. How could he be king and act like this? How dare he?

"Come to bed with me," he whispered, reaching out, taking my hand, and pulling me towards him.

  "No. You're drunk." I said. There was no way he was going to talk to me sweetly and call me dear and then lay me down and fuck me like a whore. 

He raised his hand as if to strike me, then dropped it and sighed. "You're right, of course, and that's not fair to you. Jehovah help me, but you've made me crazy."

Jehovah might help him, but not me. My wits would have to do.  "So what will my lord do to fix what has come of...this?" I asked, not daring to call it rape.

He sighed again and sat down on his chaise. "I will send and have your husband pulled from the battle lines. When he gets here, I will give him my best in wine and meat and when he is drunk, I'll send him home to you. Make love to him, and he will never know what we have done."

 _We?  We?_  

I bit my tongue as it left my mouth, stopping the rage from flowing out. There was no we about it. Only him. Only David. 

"Will that suit you, my darling?" He asked, trying to be tender.

"It's the best we can do now," I said, overemphasizing the we for his benefit. He didn't notice.

"I'm much too tired now to talk anymore," the king said, lying back down and pulling the blanket over himself. I exhaled slightly when his privates were no longer visible.  "Have them show you out and take you home."

I bowed and retreated as quickly as possible through the curtains to the door. Outside, the messenger was waiting. He didn't look at me or speak at all, just motioned at me to follow him and led me back to my small house. The fire had died and it was cold inside, and the sun was starting to color the sky ever so slightly. 

When I had closed the door on the messenger, I stirred up the fire and sat before it, staring into it. 

I couldn't help feeling that this wasn't at all the response I wanted, but it was a clever one. It just wasn't clever enough to get me out of having to look at his child for the rest of my life and never mention that it was a child of the king. It might not be the child's fault, but I knew I would never see that child the way I would my own. It was like having a poisoned tree growing up through my stomach, getting ever larger, until one day it would come out of my body and poison my whole world.

But maybe not. Maybe there was more I could do. 

 

 


	5. Chapter Five

I thought about it all the next day. David wanted me to sleep with Uriah and lie to him about the child so that he, the king, could be protected. 

Bah, protected from what? Scandal? It wasn't like anything bad would honestly happen to him. He was the most adored King Israel had ever had so far in our short line of kings, and considering what the people thought of him, one little woman claiming that he slept with her and that she bore his child wouldn't hurt him. No one would believe me anyway.

And why would I tell anyone? More likely I'd be the one to die, I and the baby together because of course the god of David would see it his way, not mine. They'd drag me out and stone me and that would be the end of the matter. 

So why tell me to lie? He had nothing to fear, except for the more suspicious and radical people in the city. Perhaps they might see a problem where no one else did. The Levites and their ever industrious need for control would no doubt tell him off, and then he'd make a sacrifice or twenty and go to battle and win and they'd tell him that whatever was behind the veil in that old Tabernacle had accepted him again and on he would go with his merry life. 

Unless...he really did want to protect me in some twisted way. Protect me from the accusations and looks and dangerous threats I'd be faced with if anyone knew I'd been touched by the king. Because of course I had so much control over the matter. 

Guilt. That had to be it. He had me, he liked it, he thought it was all good, until now it wasn't, and his tiny little conscience must've been reached in some minuscule way. This was how he was living that guilt down.

But what about me? That little conscience relieving plan he had made did not make anything right for me. And all these little reasonings went round and round in my head until something just came to me.

What would happen if I didn't have the baby? Wouldn't that solve everything? Without the child, I could move on. Not lie to Uriah, not hate my offspring for being half of David, not forever live in fear that someone might wonder where in the family he got "that little birthmark" or "that little upturned nose" or whatever other detail didn't line up. 

Perhaps if I could force the infant to be stillborn...or  better yet, expel it early...

But I couldn't do it alone. That was certain. Of such things I had no knowledge. I had never had a child inside me, and I was the last of my mother's offspring. No one ever thought of ways to prevent the birth of a child. Everything was done so that they might be saved, not born without breath. 

Except...well, Jehovah had forbidden it, in all the land, but that didn't mean there wasn't still some kind of...other way out there.  David's god had never cared, but I had always known that there were alternatives. People spoke of them in dark corners and dark whispers...the gods of the foreigners, and the witchcraft of the outsiders. 

Could there even still be in Israel anyone like that? Everyone talked as if those were all women, old hags who had outlived their contemporaries by possibly less than natural means. I'd never thought about it. As a child I had been terrified of the idea of witches or other gods and looked to Jehovah as everyone else did, but as I had grown I had noticed that Jehovah had an annoying habit of only caring about war and manly proceedings and strength and the preservation of power. Of course, one can't just say something like that, but still...

This could be my out. If the child could die, and David could hear about it, he would be forced to deal with the idea that perhaps his god was punishing him. Jehovah might not have the guts, but I? Perhaps I had more than David had given me credit for. 

That night, as I lay in bed, I decided to seek out someone who could do what I wished for and not tell anyone about it. I had no idea where to look, but I was determined to start.


End file.
